


Sakura Biyori

by Akatsuki_Celeste



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akatsuki_Celeste/pseuds/Akatsuki_Celeste
Summary: Resurrected two years after his death at the Wall, Mu decides not to waste his second chance.
Relationships: Aries Mū/Virgo Shaka
Series: Second Chances [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774069
Kudos: 18





	Sakura Biyori

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a collection of one-shots exploring two of my favorite Saint Seiya concepts: Resurrection and What Ifs. Each story is separate from each other, though they can be considered to exist within the same universe and timeline, and they all share a common thing. I've chosen to post them in a collection instead of as a multi-chapter work because of this. 
> 
> This work was originally posted on Fanfiction.Net in 2012.

It looked as though pink snow had fallen over the fields. Extending as far as he could see in either direction was nothing but pink and white dotting the green grass, colors swirling through the air when caught by a gentle breeze. The delicate petals were removed easily from their groundings, torn free from branches to be sent spiraling off on their great journey.

One pink petal caught in lilac hair, blending with the soft purple strands and settling in as if resigning itself to the end of its travels – until lithe fingers reached up and dislodged it, sending it sweeping away with the next great gust. A smile touched the Gold Saint of Aries' lips as he watched it rejoin its floating brethren, soon becoming lost from view.

The sight of cherry blossom blooms had always touched something inside of Mu – the pacifist Saint had enjoyed more than a few viewings over the course of his life. Not as many as he would have liked. Few things grew in Jamir, and so to see the trees would require a special trip out of the country, and those could only be made when it was safe. But this was a moment of respite that he intended to embrace, and with the situation in Sanctuary having calmed for the moment, he had decided to indulge himself in the tranquility of the sakura trees of Japan.

It hadn't been necessary for him to actually leave Sanctuary, of course; he knew he was welcome within Shaka's garden to see the blooms there. But it had been a long time since he'd viewed the trees in all their glory in their native land, and he had been seized by a sudden impulse that refused to let him go until he had made the journey. HakuYouKyuu had survived without him for thirteen years during his time in Jamir, and then again following his death in Elysium before his resurrection two years later. It would survive another few days of absence.

Another breeze passed by him, rippling the fabric of the kimono that he had donned. Though not his usual style of clothing, he'd decided to follow Japanese tradition and wear it. He certainly wasn't the only man wearing a kimono while viewing the cherry blossoms that day, and so he wouldn't be out of place. The lavender and blue garment fit his frame as though it were a second skin, his long hair tumbling down his back and restrained only by the leather tie that gathered it at the base.

Mu closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Here, in the countryside, away from the sounds and scents of the cities, Mu could practically _taste_ Spring. The scents of the flowers surrounded him, the peaceful chirping of birds in their nests, and there in the distance the sound of laughter from playing children somewhere beyond the reaches of his sight. And more than that, he could _feel_ Spring. The budding of new life, the near-perfect warmth of the sun's rays, the faintest hint of a possible rain shower to come. Spring was not simply a thought or theory. It was not formless – it was tangible, it was present, it _existed_. It was an entity in and of itself, and it was everywhere for anyone who cared to look.

Spring – _his_ Spring. More his than Aldebaran's, more his than Saga and Kanon's. Spring was _Mu's_ time; it was the Ram that oversaw its arrival, welcoming its coming and watching it grow into its full strength. Yes, Spring belonged to him, and it was at the start of the season that Mu felt himself the most at peace.

"I wonder how necessary it is, however, to come such a distance to find that peace."

Mu opened his eyes at the soft, philosophical tone that came from behind him. He didn't question how he'd been found, or how his thoughts were known. There was only _one_ person in all of Sanctuary – no, the world – who knew him that well. He turned to face the long-haired blonde man standing behind him.

Unlike Mu, who had opted for the traditional Japanese kimono despite his Tibetan roots, Shaka wore the monk's robes befitting his status. To look at him, one would never know that this man was supposed to be the current incarnation of Buddha himself, the man proclaimed to be the one closest to God. He looked more like he belonged on the cover of a magazine than sequestered away in a temple.

"Shaka," he said, nodding in acknowledgement of the Virgo Saint's arrival, trying not to show the surprise in his eyes at the other man's presence. "I wasn't expecting you to follow me here."

Shaka fixed his closed-eyed gaze upon him. "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't lie to each other, Mu."

The blunt statement made Mu shift slightly and look away, folding his arms across his chest as he turned his gaze back to the cherry blossoms. "I believe there is a difference between expectation and wishful thinking," he said quietly. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet-scented air before releasing.

"Then you do not deny that the entire reason you failed to alert anyone to your destination, or even to the fact that you would be leaving Sanctuary for a time, was in order to test me?" Anyone else might have been shocked to hear so many words coming out of Shaka's mouth, but Mu had had the honor of many a philosophical debate with the Virgo Saint and knew that beneath his silent visage was a man of high intelligence and gentle compassion. He was also a man who chose his words carefully and spoke only when he felt that speaking was needed – and even then, only to someone he truly believed would listen.

Hearing Mu's personal motives laid out naked in such a fashion made the Aries Saint burn with silent shame. "It's a harsh way of putting it," he admitted, "but in essence…yes."

The sound of cloth moving on cloth brought Mu's attention to Shaka coming to stand beside him, rather than behind. "It is refreshing to speak with someone who admits that he has shallow moments and does not apologize for them," Shaka said, his gaze directed now at the very cherry blossoms that Mu himself had been contemplating just moments earlier. "It has been a long time since I have left my Temple for personal reasons."

At that, Mu couldn't help but turn to look at his companion. "It's been a long time since you've done _anything_ for personal reasons, Shaka," he said, giving Shaka the same straightforward honesty that he was receiving. When the blonde didn't respond, Mu waited patiently.

Ever since their revival…no. Ever since the battle for Sanctuary, when five Saints had been left to pick up the pieces and rebuild after the deaths of their comrades, Mu had been waiting for Shaka. Always reserved, always alone, the two of them had formed a bond over their similar viewpoints and personalities when they had been children. When he'd returned to Sanctuary over ten years after his defection, he had been surprised to find that the soft-spoken, gentle if reserved boy he had bonded with over meditations had become a rigid, solemn man full enveloped in his own sense of spirituality. He had become detached from the world and humanity, living more as if he were observing them rather than living among them.

The Sanctuary war had left its survivors scarred, and Shaka had been no exception. It had taken months for Mu to draw the words out of the Virgo Saint, for Shaka to tell him of his encounter with Phoenix Ikki and the subsequent soul-searching that he had been forced to endure. For Shaka, the realization that he had come so close to killing his own humanity had been as much a slap in the face for him as the knowledge that his actions had nearly resulted in the death of Athena. And even a soul as strong as Shaka's had not been able to shoulder such heaviness alone.

For Mu, returning to Sanctuary had not meant just aiding the Bronze Saints in their battles and accepting his place as the Saint of Aries. It had been reaching out to the ones he had considered to be his brothers, to help them find their place after their worlds had been turned upside down. And having gone through his own crisis of faith, he had not been able to turn his back to the cracks he had seen within Shaka, reaching out to him.

And, to his surprise and relief, his old friend had accepted his hand.

Now, here they were, side by side among the cherry blossoms. Time, as always, had helped to heal the wounds, but Mu suspected that neither of them would have been able to come out of it completely intact if it weren't for the other. Mu had helped Shaka restore his faith in the world and finally accept the fact that he was, despite his strength and convictions, human. Shaka, in turn, had helped to soothe the guilt and regret that Mu had been carrying around ever since the death of his master and his self-imposed to Jamir.

They had gone from innocent children to strong warriors, from strong warriors to shattered men. But their cracks had healed, their foundations growing only stronger. They had sacrificed themselves for the good of the world and for the life of their goddess, and had their stories ended there they would have been content in their end.

Yet by the grace of their goddess they had been given a second chance, and Mu had made a vow upon opening his eyes once more that he would never again let himself fall into the shadows that he had hovered on the precipice of. He would embrace it all – his life, his duty, his convictions.

And his love.

"The world has come full circle," Shaka said, breaking the silence between them and echoing Mu's own thoughts. "The men we once were are now merely a part of us, rather than the entirety of our being."

Mu nodded quietly. "Yet how _much_ a part of us they still are differs from individual to individual," he replied. "Take, for example, Aiolia. He hasn't changed much from who he used to be, aside from a slightly more serious attitude and less of a habit of hotheadedly running into a situation without thinking it over. Quite a contrast to the other end of the spectrum, which I think can easily be awarded to Deathmask. His quest for justice still influences him, yet no longer rules him."

"The darker one's life, the more they have to face upon death," Shaka replied. "And the more questions one has to face about themselves."

Mu's shoulders tensed underneath his kimono.

"…How long would it take to expect answers to those questions?" His voice didn't sound as if it were coming from him. It sounded as if it were coming from some place further away – as if he were watching the conversation, rather than actively participating in it.

"That depends on how long it takes you to look at me."

Mu turned with a start, his heart jumping into his throat as he came face to face with a pair of sapphire eyes that seemed to stare straight through his physical body and right into his soul. Aphrodite might have been heralded as the most beautiful of Saints, but one look into Shaka's eyes and Mu felt as though his breath had been stolen from his lungs. There was no comparison.

And those eyes were looking at him now – gone was the normal aloof expression, replaced by warmth and gentleness. "You said that you came here in part to test me," Shaka said quietly. "Rather than come to my garden, you came here, to another country, to see if I would follow." His gaze held him, their even height making it easy to maintain contact – until Mu felt Shaka's hand on his, fingers sliding across his palm until they were entwined together. Mu looked down, staring numbly at their hands.

"Have I passed your test, Mu?" Shaka asked.

Mu swallowed hard, lifting his head once more just as another spring breeze came sailing by, bringing with it a fresh rush of petals that continued their intricate dance through the air. One of them caught in Shaka's hair this time, settling just above his ear, standing out against the golden locks.

Mu lifted his hand and reached for it, his fingers ghosting over Shaka's temple as he brushed the petal away. Then his hand lingered, caressing the silken strands now beneath it, as he drew the other man into his arms for the first time. There were no more words between them – there was no need. The universe had condensed down into a world that, for this moment in time, was simply the two of them. Mu. Shaka.

And the cherry blossoms.


End file.
